The Worst Witch 2017 - The Revelations of the EXPELLED
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Third instalment of my EXPELLED series. Mildred Hubble has picked up the pieces of the misery caused by her expulsion from Cackles Academy, and she is happy at college, training to be a nurse, and living as a part-time artist. But an unknown blast from her family's past is about to drop in and reveal a few things that had the potential to change her life, but is it too late?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - Same old thing, I don't own the Worst Witch.

A/N - Although I approve of her enthusiasm and imagination, La Catrina de Cackle's takes on my earlier work are her own and it is completely different from the ideas I've come up with for this version of the Worst Witch.

* * *

The Revelations of Expelled.

Leaning against the wall of the lift as it rose, Mildred smiled at her mother even though the pair of them were dead tired and worn down that it felt as though their very bodies were made of lead.

Julie grinned at her. "See?" she said, though her smile was more of a tired grimace and her cheerfulness was forced.

Mildred nodded, smiling in much the same manner. "I do, mum, but thanks for helping me get the job."

"No problem, honey," Julie replied. "So, do you think you'll stay?"

Mildred smiled. "Definitely. I love art, mum, but I'm a realist; ever since that mess at Cackles," here her smile, and her mother's, became grimaces as they remembered that visit they'd had from Cackle and Hardbroom, "I've come to see that we don't always see our dreams come true. I'd love to be an artist full time, but I don't want to keep painting and painting. I want to work and paint on the side."

Julie nodded, inwardly concerned by what her daughter had just said. While she was pleased her daughter had grown up, though truthfully she wished Mildred was still that little baby she had been, she didn't like the view Mildred had with her art, but it was a realistic view. She was just surprised Mildred had asked her if she could become a nurse, and she had called in a few favours to get Mildred her job at the same hospital, and she had worked one shift but she knew in time there would probably be double-shifts in store for Mildred.

"How's college going?" she asked, wondering if she had asked that question a few times recently.

Mildred's chuckle and the exasperated look on her face told her that she had. "It's going great mum," she replied, repeating the same thing she had been saying for the last few days, "though the art teacher isn't very good at looking at giving everyone their own projects."

"This teacher… Hardbroom level?" Julie asked carefully.

"No, thank god," Mildred replied, memories of HB's bias reappearing in her mind. "He just wants us to follow the same lessons, do the same things. I thought when we got into college, I'd do my own project, but it hasn't happened yet."

Julie mulled it over for a second in her mind. "That's college, Mildred," she said at last as the lift finally came to their floor. Julie didn't say any more until the pair of them had got out of the lift and she didn't say anything until the doors had closed. "You know that some teachers who teach something as creative as art prefer teaching their lessons in much the same way as teachers in other subjects; they take their students through the same things every day, but I see your points, Millie."

Mildred smiled but yawned when they got to the door and Julie opened it. Mildred switched the light on and looked around in delight, glad to be home, and Tabby ran towards them in greeting. Mildred grinned at her cat as she petted him; Tabby had been the only friend she had had at Cackles, and while she had good memories of Maud and Enid before the expulsion she saw those memories with a pinch of salt. Tabby was the only thing she really had from the Academy that she held onto with any kind of joy, and it helped the cat had barely left her bedroom/dungeon at the Academy. Out of everything else she had owned, she still had the pointed witches hat and the badge and sash off of her uniform. Nothing else. She and her mother had burnt the rest since the uniform shirt had been ill-fitting at times, and her boots had been too tight for her circulation, so she had gone around with her laces untied to give her feet some blood. She hadn't wanted gangrene to satisfy the teachers.

Julie fixed them both up some beans on toast - they both wanted a filling meal after spending so many hours at the hospital. When Julie handed Mildred her own plate, she watched her daughter tuck into her food and she followed suit.

They chatted as they ate. "So, what kind of things are you going to do at college tomorrow?" Julie asked.

"I've got art and photography tomorrow," Mildred replied, forking a piece of soggy-buttery toast smothered with beans and sauce and putting it all into her mouth, chewing on it while she pondered on the rest of her mother's question. "I've also got to get started on that piece of photography homework, but I can do that in another few days."

Julie nodded, not saying anything about her daughter's homework. She knew Mildred had taken her camera out a few times as part of her homework in the past, and this was no different. "What about your other subject, English Lit?"

Mildred yawned as she was about to eat a particularly crunchy looking piece of toast. "I haven't got that tomorrow," she said, "it's just art and photography tomorrow. I can't wait to begin ceramics in a bit, for now, I'm stuck working on charcoal."

"I thought you were okay with charcoal?"

"I am, I just wish there was more variety during the lessons," Mildred replied, thinking back to the lessons she'd had at Cackles for a moment. Thanks to her lack of knowledge about magic and magical culture, Mildred had no idea what would have been considered a normal lesson plan. But since everyone had expected her to follow it through without any real effort on their part, Mildred had had problems keeping up before her expulsion.

When she was kicked out and went to normal secondary school, she had a better and easier time with lessons. In college, it was just as easy, especially since her lessons were divided into three classes rather than her getting a dozen consisting of subjects she had zero interest in.

"What about you?" Mildred asked her mother.

Julie was surprised by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think you can handle the hospital without me?" Mildred joked.

Julie gave a tired laugh. "Oh, I think so love," she said, "if not I'll come to the college so you can hold it up!"

Mildred laughed quietly as her mother turned the joke over her head. When the Hubble's were finished with their impromptu meals, Julie put the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher and set it up before the pair of them got ready for bed.

* * *

It took time for Mildred to go to sleep, but then that usually happened whenever she thought about Cackles Academy or something else that was bothering her.

Mildred had had quite a few sleepless nights thinking about the school over the years; she might have been expelled and had returned to her non-magical roots, which so many at the Academy had wanted her to do over time. After her expulsion, she had experienced a few sleepless nights thinking about the Academy, before the confrontation with HB and Cackle.

Even now Mildred still couldn't comprehend what had possessed the two witches in thinking it would be alright to be so thoughtless and insult her mother, did they really think she'd ignore that and everything else they had said and done? Did they truly think she would have just forgotten the way Hardbroom had gone out of her way to make life as uncomfortable as possible?

Despite her pledge to put magic behind her, she had had quite a few nights where she had been incapable of getting any actual sleep shortly after her expulsion. She had been entered into non-magical school, begun getting her head around the subjects, but she had still wondered….She had almost run away from Cackles, ironically a few weeks after she had helped expose Miss Gullet's crime of transforming Mr Rowan-Webb into a frog and leaving him in a pond for 30 years. But the wizard teacher had stopped her. Told her that a little voice would go "what if?" if she had decided to follow through with her plan, and just leave. The questions were straightforward the moment the wizard had given her the scenarios. What if she had run away and regretted it for the rest of her life? What if she wished she had buckled down and actually studied, which she did?

It was ironic she had been expelled and those two words in the question posed to her as a scenario because she had been heartily sick of Cackles, sick of the teachers - HB, Drill, Gullet and even Miss Cackle, sick of the lessons where the teachers used them as an opportunity to use her as a scapegoat whenever something went wrong, or because she made a stupid mistake that brought them down on top of her head like a ton of bricks.

But more importantly, she had become so heartily sick of Maud and Enid, again ironically because after her expulsion she definitely wanted nothing to do with them after they had torn her beliefs that they were pals to shreds, and Maud's inability to grow up and see Enid was not a threat to her. Whether or not they were friends still, she didn't know, didn't care either.

But after her expulsion and her entry into a different school in the non-magical school, she hadn't expected to get a few restless nights, but she had. She had dreamt of going back to Cackles, learning how to brew potions and master spells at last, but as time passed that old dream died out one chunk at a time and by the time she met Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom again the dream had died and she had begun to accept the fact she would never be a witch.

The ironic thing; Mildred seemed to have gotten a grasp of performing spells. Oh, they weren't anything special or spectacular. They were just simple flicks of her hands that helped her with some of her housework, but that was it.

But the reason for Mildred being restless tonight was because she wondered what the future held for her. She didn't know if she could cope with being a nurse in the same manner as her mother, but she had already spoken to her mother about this. Her mother knew where she was coming from; when Julie had first taken the job as a nurse at the hospital, she had been daunted with the hours, the unpredictable shift patterns, the late nights, the lack of rest, the lack of food and time to drink. But her mother had adjusted to it. Mildred had no doubt she herself would get used to it, but she was worried about how long it would take for her to adjust but she was lucky enough that her mother had the same job and had the experience to help her.

But what worried her was the fact she would need to juggle work with college. The good news was she had plenty of time on her hands at home, and she usually spent it at the flat or she was hanging out with some of her friends. But her Auntie Mo had gotten her a job already at a cafe with the owner an old friend of her aunt who owned Mo a few favours, and she had been happy to give Mildred a job. True, she had needed to master her clumsiness so she didn't trip and smash orders and let her aunt down, but Mildred was earning cash and she was developing her skills.

Meanwhile, she had plenty of time to work on her art, but if there was one thing she had received from Cackles was it wasn't to expect miracles. When she had been a kid she had had hopes she could be like Da Vinci, Monet…. but what angered and upset Mildred the most was how much more Cackles had taken from her. She had wanted to become an artist when she'd been younger, but as she had grown up she had realised that being an artist was a matter of success, which meant she would need to grow as a person, get a good job and use that job to supply her with her art materials. But what made it more tragic was she hadn't worked it out until much later when she was trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, when she had been younger she had never contemplated becoming a nurse like her mother, though she truly didn't have a problem with that and besides she had no intention of giving her art up.

* * *

Mirabelle Hubble had tried everything she could think of to restore the coven's Founding Stone since that crazy evil wizard drained it of its magic.

At first she had been delighted when the Council had gifted them with the Founding Stone, magical objects of great power which supplied whatever it was meant to feed with pure magical energy, constantly sucking up and releasing the magic released by spells and witches and using that magic to make the coven, business, shrine, or school with magic to make it a focal point for the Craft, but when she had heard there were wizards and witches out there who rebelled against the Code and the law of the Council, stealing the magic stored within each stone they encountered and then used the magic to cause devastation and death she had begun to wonder if the Stone in their coven was really needed.

Covens didn't need Founding Stones, but the reason was the Council wanted to create focal points of magic where magic would be stronger so then they would have places of great history.

When the coven had been founded, the Magic Council in their infinite wisdom had provided the coven's caves with the stone in order to truly create a magical environment. They wanted schools, covens, shrines, libraries that collected and catalogued and researched magical culture from different and distant parts of the globe. They wanted witches and wizards to be inspired by the past by living, learning, and working in a magical place powered by a Founding Stone.

They wanted the next generations to go out there while maintaining magical traditions and history and preserving the collective knowledge of the various families in order to create magical history for the future generations to be proud of.

Mirabelle shivered as she clutched the Founding Stone to her chest like a desperate mother trying to coddle her child in her haste to escape the caves. When the coven had first chosen the caves as their place, they had used their magic to make the caves as inhabitable as they possibly could while they had maintained as much of the original caves here and there, making up their collective minds to leave the caves in their natural state for the time being until the coven witches found some use for them.

Some of the caverns had been enlarged under the force of their magic, the spells widening the passages and the ceilings so they could actually pass through them without having to take a deep breath to squeeze their way through to one cavern to the next. They even created new rooms in the rock, hollowing out large chunks of rock out of the caves, creating fluted columns which the witches decorated in magical runes and pictographs.

When the witches first came to the caves, the network of caves, passageways and caverns had consisted of a spider's web of large and narrow passageways and caves, with large and narrow caverns and chambers. Once they were finished the cave network had been carefully redesigned into a new network shaped around a series of concentric circles with magically expanded or created new rooms on various levels. Drapes and tapestries the sisters had collected over the years were hung across the natural rock while sconces of magical fire to illuminate the caves lined the walls.

Mirabelle had barely paid much attention to the Magic Council's attention when they found out that she and her sisters were creating a new coven. But when they had informed them that they were going to give them a Founding Stone, Mirabelle and the rest of her sisters had been delighted.

A Founding Stone in their coven would allow Mirabelle and her sisters to grow their coven, attract new sisters who would help introduce younger witches to the beauties and the benefits of continuing the magical tradition of covens which were one of the great symbols of a witch. More than one coven had done the same thing over the centuries. They had started a coven, and taken their daughters to them in order to study under other witches who helped teach them how to brew potions and some complex magic in order to inspire the younglings to become even better than their elders.

The idea of creating a coven was passed down like the magic which their daughter inherited from their mother, which had been passed down the line from their grandmothers, and more than one coven had earned a place in magical history by helping create new potions or spells.

Mirabelle understood what the Council had wanted to do. They wanted magic to truly flourish. They had provided a host of schools, colleges, universities, shrines, and libraries with Founding Stones in order to make them magical. So in order to create a magic school, the Magic Council would need to supply them with the means of making that place magical. Without a Founding Stone, there would be no magic school. No magic shrine.

In the past, the Council had been very stingy about giving such a Stone to a coven. When the Stone clutched in her arms had been given to the Coven in order to make it truly magical in order to sow the seeds to make magical history.

The Magic Council had recently begun a program where they had authorised the building and founding of new magical schools and colleges on top of what was already available, which was mostly a few schools though covens were primarily responsible for the education of young witches. The idea was to educate the next generations of witches and wizards in order to inspire them into discovering new spells and potions, to inspire new ideas and truly and ultimately make the Magical World better. Mirabelle had heard the Magic Council had recently taken an interest in sending people out into the world to explore it, to travel the various countries and learn how they governed their own magical communities and what they had to offer.

The Council wanted to make Magical Britain great, and they had begun using Founding Stones to make places magical, like sowing acorns in a large patch of land to grow new oak trees over a wide area. They wanted schools and covens to educate and continue magical training and impart their traditions while the covens were responsible for passing on the tradition of the coven to their descendants in the hope of continuing the coven through their future daughters and granddaughters or inspire them into founding their own covens as time passed.

Magical museums and Libraries had been founded with Founding Stones in order to make them truly magical. They wanted the museums to showcase the past and provide the magic needed to preserve whatever was collected over the years while inspiring the youth to look at the past to create the future.

By setting up Magical Libraries, the Magic Council hoped to create collections of scrolls and books enriched by magical culture and knowledge of the ages past, and with that, they would create that future they wanted.

Mirabelle shivered. This was one of the reasons she hated the idea of Founding Stone powering the coven. She just didn't understand how that evil wizard had managed to find the Stone. She and her sisters knew how dangerous it was to just leave the Stone out in the open like that, and they had placed it in a part of the catacombs they'd assumed would not be touched, but they were wrong. Now the Stone was drained, and the frost was settling in.

Magical frost.

Mirabelle shivered once more as she walked uncertainly through the caves towards the entrance where she would hopefully manage to escape, trying valiantly to stop the chill from getting to her. Magical Frost was a highly parasitic form of magic that fed off the powers of a witch or wizard unlucky enough to be nearby. It was one of the after-effects of a Founding Stone losing its magic, and the frost was the stone trying desperately hard to recover the magic it had lost.

As she passed through the caves, Mirabelle prayed she didn't become frozen in a block of ice which could never be thawed as the place became magical black-spot. None of the coven sisters had realised the full extent of the evil wizard's crime until the magical frost had begun to set in, and when their spells went awry. At first, it was small effects, annoying effects; Mirabelle had tried to brew a few potions hours ago, but the imbalance of magic in the caves had caused the cauldrons to explode.

When her coven sisters had realised what was going on, they had evacuated the caves immediately; they had quite a few younger girls visiting and the older witches knew that there was nothing they could do so they'd evacuated before any of them had become frozen as the magical frost tried to feed off their magic. One or two of them had tried to pool their resources and reignite the Stone, but it hadn't worked. They had been frozen in blocks of ice, and so the rest of the coven had evacuated, prepared to face the consequences. The Magic Council would disgrace them for the Founding Stone going out, but that was preferable to be frozen inside a block of ice as the Magical Frost tried to consume their magic.

But Mirabelle had tried. She came from a family of great witches, and if there was one thing that was inherent in her family line, it was stubbornness. She was not the type to simply give up.

But even she knew deep down it was hopeless. With the ice and the frost settling in, attacking and leaching off the magic imbued in the caves, Mirabelle knew that if she didn't escape then she would be permanently frozen into a block of ice.

She had already tried to give the stone her magic. The whole lot just to reignite it, but she had underestimated just how much magic the stone needed. It was not enough. Oh, she had felt the stone accept the offering, but it was not enough, it wanted more. Much more. Soon Mirabelle had realised what the stone wanted.

It wanted the magic of her family's future. It wanted the magic of her daughter, and her daughter and all the daughters to follow. Mirabelle felt sick at the thought of her family losing something that made them who they were, she just couldn't do it. Mirabelle, like all Hubble's, had nothing against non-magical people despite the fear they showed towards witches and wizards, but that didn't mean she wanted to spend any real time with them, never mind want her family to suddenly join them. It went against everything Mirabelle had been taught, and everything she believed in as a witch.

But there was no other way.

Mirabelle was tempted, really tempted….. it would be so easy. Just….abandon the Stone….. abandon the caves the Coven had created….abandon all of their hard work in making the caves a magical centre….just walk away and hope she got out before the frost got to her and froze her in a block of ice… and face the wrath of the Magic Council…..

But she couldn't. She knew she couldn't just walk away. It was fine for other witches, they didn't have to put up with the Hubble need to help, to do something to make a solution to the problem. It didn't take long for Mirabelle to realise she would have to sacrifice the magic she herself carried but also the Hubble family magic, but she couldn't face it.

Mirabelle just could not make a sacrifice without knowing what the long-term effects of her decision would be for her descendants. Would they remember their heritage? Would they pass the Hubble grimoire through their family line as was traditional from one generation to the next, or would it be forgotten?

But more important questions filled her mind than whether or not her daughter and her granddaughter and all the granddaughters to follow would be happy and healthy? Would they adapt all right to their new world? Would they be struggling? Or would they fall and die, succumbing to the terrible diseases non-magical people fell to on a daily occurrence?

As she had pondered those questions Mirabelle had remembered that she could see what had become of her family. Some time ago, she and her coven sisters had encountered the Mists of Time, and they had taken a fragment of the Mists and placed it inside a crystal bottle, compressing it down until its magic was contained. It had been a nightmare to imprison the fragment, but she knew the bottle was inside the cave network.

If she could reach it then she could travel into her family's future and see what had become of them, and if they were happy then she would be happy to give her magic away.

But if they were unhappy….

Mirabelle decided to fly that broomstick when she came to it, right now she had to get her hands on the bottle.

Quick.

That was where Mirabelle was heading to right now, to the chamber where the bottle was. When she entered the chamber, she was relieved to see the caves were frost free. That made sense, the coven sisters had spent a year reforming and building new chambers in the caves, founding the coven formally and becoming a centre of education for the next generation, but they had yet to completely fill the caverns and chambers with magical books and artefacts and some of the chambers had become mere storerooms.

Unfortunately, it was so disorganised she couldn't see the bottle or any sign of it. Mirabelle cursed as she searched the chamber, resisting the urge to use magic to immediately solve her problem; the spell probably wouldn't work anyway, but if she performed magic of any kind, even the simplest spell, it would just hurry the frost up. The last thing she wanted was to find the bottle containing the Mists of Time fragment and just end up frozen in magical ice, unable to escape and be trapped forever while the ice ate her magic. But she believed she was in luck here for the time being; not a lot of magic would have been used in the past since the coven had been founded and the chamber and the passageways outside were just used for storage.

With a bit of luck, she should find the bottle and be on her way.

Well, at least that was the theory. There was so much stuff here, and she had to search through all of it to find the right box. She knew the bottle containing the Mists of Time fragment was in this chamber, they all knew. It had been a risk placing it here, but they had wanted to create the coven slowly, and it would be likely placed inside a box which would be unlikely to be disturbed by an outsider.

Mirabelle searched frantically for the bottle. Her search was hampered by the amount of ornate wooden boxes cluttering up space. Her coven sisters had filled chambers like this without giving much thought at all to make a system, and now she was having to look through each box. She had found boxes of jars filled with potions and ingredients, spare robes, drapes, tapestries that had yet to be put up, cauldrons made from various metals, candles, and books.

Mirabelle searched each one thoroughly, and she looked through the chamber for over half an hour though it felt more like an eternity while she kept her eyes focused on her search and looking around the chamber for the first signs of the rock freezing up. After searching a seemingly eternal number of crates, she was looking through a box full of carefully folded drapes. Mirabelle sighed and wondered how many drapes this coven needed; as a witch, she was supposed to live in a place where magic was essentially worshipped in all but name, and their decorations were designed to highlight that, but that didn't mean too many things couldn't get old really fast.

She searched through the drapes carefully, keeping an eye out for the first signs of the frost, but so far she was still in luck. After about five minutes of removing one layer after another, she finally found what she was looking for, tucked away under the weight of the drapes. Mirabelle closed her eyes and laughed with relief before she reopened her eyes and picked up the bottle out of the box. She idly wondered who had buried the bottle in this particular box, but she decided it didn't make any difference now. Whoever had done it had probably planned to keep it in a box full of harmless objects to fool anyone who may have wanted to plunder the coven.

The bottle looked like someone had taken a number of really think pieces of crystal and then used heat to remould them into a new shape, the end result made it look like another someone had grabbed some hammers and chisels had broke as much of the crystal away. The Mists of Time fragment was trapped inside. It was compressed by a number of spells placed inside the crystal. The Mists of Time were too dangerous to simply rely on a mere crystal bottle being the only thing keeping it stable and contained. Mirabelle made a quick study over the bottle. It wasn't touched by the frost yet so there was still time.

Once she was finished she hurried over to the Founding Stone, and just as she was picking it up, she jumped back with a yell of shock when she saw, in a corner of the chamber, a patch of magical frost that began to spread like mould.

Mirabelle shoved the bottle into a pocket of her cloak and rushed down the passages, cradling the Founding Stone in her arms as she went. It was a nightmarish experience running through dark passageways and tunnels all the way to the entrance, even for a fully trained and experienced witch, but when she saw the light at the end of the passageway she almost cried with relief.

When she reached the cave entrance she stopped and realised she couldn't just take the stone with her, not into the woods and certainly not into the future to see her descendants. Time travel would not prevent the magical frost from spreading out, and even if one of her descendants was non-magical, she was not going to endanger them.

She sighed and placed the Founding Stone just tucked out of sight of the entrance and she rushed away from the caves to put some distance between herself and the caves.

She stopped when she came to an old oak tree in the forest and she decided this was far enough, and she took out the bottle. As she placed her hand on the stopper, she thought about the incantation she was going to need to use, she had to get this right the first time. As she spoke the incantation carefully, she uncorked the bottle and felt the magic of the Mists of Time leak out, Mirabelle hoped that her plan would work out.

* * *

Mildred leant against the wall of the lift tiredly. She had had a long day at college and at work. The cafe's owner, Caitlyn, had decided to put her on the till today in order to teach her new skills. Mildred was just relieved Caitlyn had invested in a till that was more modern and told her what change to hand out to the customers, otherwise, she would be floundering as she tried to work out what change she had to hand out.

Maths had never been Mildred's strong point, she could do the basics but there were some parts she simply didn't have the ability to do so she was glad she had made it clear to Caitlyn what she could and could not do with Auntie Mo's help. But fortunately Caitlyn didn't have problem with that since she had made sure her cafe was always brought up to date while making sure the place was clean and tidy, immaculately clean and tidy every day of the week thanks to a contract with steam cleaners, and that included installing wifi in the cafe, and making it into a more cosier version of Starbucks or Cafe Nero.

Sure, there were one or two customers who were more demanding and caused her a few headaches. Mildred grimaced as she thought about that old bloke who'd come into the cafe a few times, reacting with disgust each and every single time he saw the prices of the cakes Caitlyn and a few others had worked so hard to bake for the business, asking in a huffy and angry manner about the prices and why they seemed so steep.

Mildred had seen him a few times when she was serving another table. Caitlyn was always able to handle him in a calm manner, but when the old man was gone she would comment that if he didn't like the prices or the cafe then he shouldn't come in.

When Mildred dealt with him, she had adopted Caitlyn's manner in dealing with him. Caitlyn was always careful never to offend or be rude to any difficult customers, she would always be kind and courteous to them even if they were a problem. It usually worked. When Mildred came to dealing with the old bloke, he had been annoyed by the prices of the slices of coffee and walnut cake, which didn't make sense because they were only £1.50, but he had still thrown a hissy fit. Mildred had been as polite as she could be towards someone like him, and soon he walked out of the cafe.

 _Something new to add to my CV_ , she thought to herself as she waited for the lift to reach her floor.

Mildred glanced at her watch, pleased she wasn't doing anything tonight. She wasn't going to the hospital tonight. Her mother had made it clear to the administration she had college and she needed to work on them a few nights but she would work at the hospital when she could. The hospital admin was okay with that, not that they had much choice.

When the lift finally reached her floor, Mildred got out, carefully poking her head out of the door. A new nosy neighbour had moved to the block of flats and she had already begun eavesdropping poking her nose into other people's lives. Mildred and her mother had already seen her once or twice, looking at the portfolio Mildred sometimes carried, or sniffed disdainfully whenever she saw their nursing uniforms. Mildred didn't know what her problem was and frankly didn't give a damn one way or another. She wasn't going to say or do anything unless the woman made the mistake of saying something about her or her mother, but not before. She had made the mistake of taking Ethel's potion ingredients which messed up the blonde's potion during Selection Day. She wasn't going to make the same mistake of looking and accidentally making an enemy again.

The corridor was clear and so Mildred headed for her flat door and unlocked it.

"Mum, you in?" she called as she stepped through the door while looking around the flat carefully. It looked like she was alone, she couldn't see anyone in the living room area or the kitchen. As she slipped off her jacket, she froze in shock when she heard someone behind her ask.

"Are you one of my descendants?"

Mildred whirled around and found herself looking at a woman who had jaw-length white curly hair. She noticed with some surprise the woman, this stranger, had a surprising resemblance to her mother. But then Mildred took note of what she was wearing. The woman was dressed in the robes and black cloak of a witch, and she had a pointed witch's hat on her head.

Who was this witch?

* * *

More next time.


	2. Chapter 2

Happy Halloween.

I don't own the Worst Witch, just this story and the idea though I can see it happening sometimes.

Enjoy.

* * *

The Revelations of the EXPELLED.

Ignoring the witch's question, Mildred stepped into the flat. "Who are you? Did Ada Cackle send you here? I thought I'd made it clear I wanted nothing to do with the witching world any longer."

The other woman blinked. "Cackle? I know of the family, but I've never met any of them."

Mildred wasn't sure if she should believe this woman, but there was definitely something sincere about her manner. Strangely enough, the longer she listened to this woman speaking and spent a little more time in her general company, Mildred couldn't help but feel strangely comfortable with her being in the flat.

It shouldn't have been possible, but somehow Mildred had the same general feeling of comfort she got whenever she was in the presence of either her grandmother, her aunt, or even her mother. She was uncertain how it was possible because she had never met this woman before. And then she remembered what the witch had said about descendants, but she decided to get a few more answers from this woman and eventually turn the conversation onto that particular point.

Mildred had watched dozens of detective dramas along the way. She had seen how police officers in those shows began their interviews, cleverly manipulating and twisting the interview to reach the points they wanted to reach while opening newer possibilities. She wasn't naive. She knew there were exaggerations or blatant lies in every drama, but she knew there were several seeds of truth in some of the more realistic dramas out there.

Pushing those thoughts to one side, Mildred stepped closer. "What do you know about the Cackles?" she asked curiously.

"Only that they are a well thought of family, though they aren't as powerful as the Hallows or the Hawthornes, or even the Hellibores, so they are around the same level as the Spellbodies and the Nightshades," the other witch said, only she blinked when she saw the younger brunette flinch at the mention of some of the families. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," Mildred said, "go on, what else do you know about the Cackles?"

"They are very interested in magical education. They want to open a magical school, but for the time being, they want to set up conclaves and covens devoted to magical learning so they could gain a good enough reputation so they could apply for the rights to set up a proper magical school."

Mildred tilted her head as she pondered over that little fact. It made sense. She didn't know anything about the magical government, but she imagined that even back then they wouldn't provide anyone with the rights or the permission to do anything unless they had some kind of experience in the field.

She didn't know how much experience anyone should need before you could open a school, but from the sounds of it, the Cackles had needed to spend a lot of time working on their knowledge until they gained the right qualifications.

* * *

Meanwhile Mirabelle was busy studying the girl curiously. By now she was convinced the girl was her descendant. How else could she know about the Cackles, and judging from the way she'd winced at the mention of the other families she knew them, but what could have happened to make her react in that manner? She had arrived shortly before the girl had unexpectedly arrived in the flat, and she had seen the lights of the castle in the distance, and because she was from the middle ages Mirabelle had suspected the castle was the home of some lord of the area, figuring that nothing had really changed between the non-magical and magical worlds over the centuries; she had seen the technology in the flat, the electrical lighting, the fridge and the freezer, the television and the laptop, but that was it and she didn't know anything about how they worked, but then she had looked at it closely and she had cast a spell and she had felt the magical wards which prevented the non-magical people from noticing the building.

The strength of the wards had surprised Mirabelle and she had realised that a truly powerful Founding Stone was responsible for the strength of the wards. But while she knew the castle was connected to the magical world, Mirabelle didn't know anything beyond that. But she was determined to get some answers to her questions.

"Who are you?" she asked the girl.

She had noticed the girl looked familiar. She reminded Mirabelle of those magical pictures of some of her ancestors as children. The Hubbles were extremely family orientated, and while the Witches' code caused problems for the family, they didn't let it get in the way of raising their children who were raised equally. Unfortunately, they had needed to make sure they didn't have more than one or two children in each generation to mitigate the worst effects of that code.

But this girl…. she reminded Mirabelle of some of the pictures she had seen of her own mother as a child, and some of her features were so pronounced…. her dark hair, her height, her cheekbones…. they definitely reminded Mirabelle of her own mother. But she needed to hear the girl's name to be sure.

But the girl decided to be obstinate. "Tell me who you are first," she said, folding her arms over her chest.

Mirabelle sighed under her breath. She didn't know how long she had left before her presence in this point in time was detected, but she was desperate to find out what had become of her family that she decided to cooperate. "Mirabelle Hubble."

The reaction from the girl convinced Mirabelle she was indeed one of her descendants. The girl's eyes widened in surprise and she took a deep breath.

"Hubble?" she whispered.

"Yes," Mirabelle confirmed before she decided to bring the line of questioning around to where she wanted it to be. "But you haven't told me who you are?"

The girl's confidence had been clearly shaken by the revelation she needed a few minutes to get her composure back. "I'm Mildred, Mildred Hubble."

* * *

Mildred had often asked herself when she had been at Cackles how she could have magic.

When she had been on good terms with Maud and Enid, she had debated with them how it was possible for her to even have magic, because the mother was the one to give a witch her magic. It had never made sense for Mildred. But it was the perfect ammunition for that bullying bitch Ethel Hallow who was determined to ruin her life and confidence.

Mildred had often asked herself if she had magical ancestry, but she had been expelled before she could actually investigate and so she had given up on actually getting answers to her questions. She had realised it was never going to happen so why bother?

But hearing this woman, this witch, say her name was Hubble…..

"Is this a joke?" Mildred asked.

The witch seemed affronted. "No. My name is Mirabelle Hubble."

Mildred didn't know what to think, but the woman hesitantly added, "I'm your ancestor, Mildred."

"What?" Mildred whispered, her brain feeling like it was about to shatter with each new revelation.

* * *

Mirabelle, however, seemed to realise that the revelations were going in so quickly that Mildred was on the verge of having a breakdown. So she decided to explain what she was doing here and how she was here. Mildred listened as the older witch, Mirabelle Hubble, told her about who she was, about the coven she and her sisters had founded a long time ago (from Mildred's perspective, etc) the work they'd put into making the place a centre for magical education, teaching the nurturing young witches and inspiring them to form their own covens and grow the history of the Craft for many centuries more.

Mildred learned of all the ups and the downs the coven had faced; how it had taken them over a year and a half to find the right place to found the coven. The witches had set it up in a network of caves and caverns because they provided a ready-made structure without needing to go to the council and fighting with other witches and wizards over different plots of land, though they'd still needed to gather permission to make the Magic Council understand the need.

Magic Council? Mildred had heard whispers about the council when she had been at Cackles. They were just idle boasts from some of the students who had family members, but she had never really learnt enough about it, though she had felt it made sense. The Magical community had been around for a long time. Someone must have written their precious and pedantic code and they would need someone, or a government to enforce the rules, but then she knew there were witches and wizards, those VIPs who had come to the school, who were important.

But Mildred listened with fascination as Mirabelle described how long it had taken to build the coven in the caves; although the majority of the caves and the caverns were just right for the purposes of the witches, they had needed to use magic to create a new ventilation system and they had needed to expand the cavern sizes to make them more room. Apparently, the coven witches had wanted to make the coven as future-proof as possible, and the membership might be doubled in the coming decades. It had happened before.

But then Mirabelle explained about the Founding Stone. Mildred, because of her limited experience with magic and with the Witching World, had never heard of a stone like that, something which surprised Mirabelle but the older witch decided to get her story out of the way first before she asked Mildred to tell her hers. Mildred learnt more about the witching world in just one fifteen minute talk with her ancestor than she had ever done in the few brief months she had ever done at Cackles, and her non-magical background gave her a similarity to the Founding Stone instantly. To her mind, the Founding Stone was just basically a magical battery, though how it worked, she didn't know and frankly did not care.

It kind of surprised her that the first contact she had had with the Witching World for the last five years and she didn't care about the Magic Council and their precious rules and she certainly couldn't bring it in herself to truly care about them. Mildred remembered when she had been dying to know more about the world Maud had introduced her to, but when she'd been betrayed and expelled…. she had found herself not caring at all about magic, but she hadn't expected it to reach a point where she just shrugged her shoulders.

And then Mirabelle told her about what happened.

"My sisters left the caves the moment they realised what had happened to the stone," she said grimly, "When a Founding Stone loses it's magic, the magic nearby begins to act up. At first, it's shown in annoying ways; spells spark and go astray, or they simply don't happen. When it happened to us…," Mirabelle sighed, "denial set in at first, like it usually does. But then the caves began to be covered with magical ice."

"Ice?" Mildred interrupted, confused.

"Yes. When a Founding Stone loses its power, it tries to restore itself by sucking up whatever magic it can find. When the stone in our caves lost its magic, it began reaching out and tried to leech off of the magic created by our spells and our potions, that's why they failed to work right," Mirabelle explained worriedly, wondering why her descendant was having a hard time grasping this. "Then magical ice begins to form as it tries to recover….. Witches and wizards, we don't just use magic, we are magic. It's in our blood, our bodies, and in our very beings. As soon as we realised what was happening, my sisters evacuated; a few were probably caught out, but the rest would have evacuated the younger witches who were at the caves at the time, learning magic in the traditional way."

Mirabelle paused when she thought she saw Mildred rolling her eyes at the word traditional, but she decided to push that aside and focus on her story. Mildred was beginning to worry Mirabelle. She knew the teenager knew about magic, but what in the name of Merlin had happened to her to give her this appalling attitude?

She decided to push ahead and find out. "When I was sure the others were gone, I tried to find a way of restoring the Stone. I even tried offering it my magic in turn, but it wasn't enough; the Stone wanted more, far more than I could provide."

"So what did you do?"

Mirabelle sighed. The curious way Mildred had asked that question was more innocent than a plain accusation, and yet somehow….. Mirabelle could not help but feel it was more painful when spoken in that manner. "I realised the Stone wanted not just my magic, but it wanted the magic of my daughter, her daughter, and all of the daughters of the family to come."

Mildred visibly stiffened, something Mirabelle noticed. "So that's why….. it all makes sense," the teenager whispered.

"What?"

"I'll tell you in a moment," Mildred promised. "Go on."

Mirabelle was silent for a moment while she replayed what she and Mildred had just said, and she became worried when she felt she had the answer. By the sounds of it, she had given her magic and all of the magic of Merlin knew how many generations of their family to that wretched Stone, and now Mildred was a witch.

How many centuries had it taken for their family to once more be blessed with the gift of magic? But more to the point, Mirabelle was concerned. What was Mildred doing now? What had caused the rift between her and this Ada Cackle? Where there the magical items you'd expect to find in any witches' home? She had been in the flat for only a few minutes before Mildred had unlocked the front door, but it had given her a perfect chance to look around. She had seen a single cat, but nothing else.

Where were the potion ingredients? Where was the cauldron? Where were the signs of a traditional witch in this room? Where were the spell books or the books for the code and for magical lore? It made no sense. But after listening to Mildred, she had the feeling she had given her magic to the Stone, and not just her magic but all of the magic of her future generations but Mildred did know about magic, so what had happened? Mirabelle was tired of coming back to that same simple question time and time again and she couldn't wait to get some answers.

But Mirabelle had seen the photographs in the flat. She had seen that Mildred did not live alone, she lived with a woman who had a striking resemblance to Mirabelle herself. But there was no sign of any witchcraft in any of the photographs. There were no pictures of Mildred or her mother on broomsticks unless of course witches and wizards no longer flew them either because someone had found a better method of travel than broomstick flying.

Another thing that concerned the older witch was the living space of her descendants. Her family had never been rich, not like the Hallows or some of the other families out there, but they had not been poor either. Their homes were larger than this, but infinitely cosy because their family cared more for a family than anything less.

She only prayed it took away the foreboding in her chest and stomach.

"I couldn't do it," Mirabelle whispered simply. "I couldn't just hand over my magic and the magic of my daughter and those of our family to come. So I decided to come forward in time to have a look."

It took a second for the teenager to make the leap. "You time travelled into the future," she stated.

"Yes," Mirabelle replied, not even trying to deny it. "It's against the code, but at the time I didn't care about the code; my coven had left the caves, but the council won't care about that when they discover what's happened to the Founding Stone. They will blame us no matter what we do, and there is nothing we can do about that. What difference would it make if I break the code after that?" she asked and then she seemed to collapse into sobs. "I just wanted to find out if my family - you and my descendants - were happy, with or without magic."

Mildred was instantly by her side and the teenager slowly and hesitantly drew her into her embrace. Mirabelle held onto the teenager, relishing the contact.

After Mirabelle had calmed down, Mildred had made them both some hot chocolate - she had thought about making them both some tea or even coffee, but she wasn't sure whether or not the older woman liked either drink, and besides she felt it would be a good idea to try something a bit sweeter, hence the chocolate.

Fortunately, Mirabelle had been happy for a chance to watch Mildred work in the kitchen. "Are you going to tell me?" she asked.

Mildred glanced at her briefly over her shoulder. "What do you mean?" she asked, stalling for a bit longer.

"Please, Mildred," Mirabelle said patiently. "I've told you my story, now tell me yours."

Mildred sighed as she waited for the microwave to 'ping' signalling their drinks had heated enough for them to drink. She turned around slowly to face Mirabelle, leaning against the countertop for support. "When I was growing up, I always wanted to become a witch," she said, "and I noticed a number of bizarre things happening around me that no-one could explain. For instance, when I was in primary school, there was this nasty teacher who singled me out of the class. One day she made me so angry that her hair changed colour from dull brown to a shiny blue."

Mirabelle chuckled.

Mildred smiled as well in remembrance, and then her face became a cross between wistful and sad at the same time. "My mum and I live opposite a castle in the distances, and yet while my mother can see it clearly, to her it's just a derelict building, and yet at night I could see lights."

In Mirabelle's mind that was even more proof the castle was magical. Non-Magical people would notice the place, but they'd never be able to truly see any kind of life.

"It wasn't until I turned eleven that things changed," Mildred's voice became flat in remembrance and Mirabelle was suddenly worried since the girl had struck her as the cheerful type. Visibly taking a moment to take a breath, Mildred went on with her explanation. "One morning I saw a number of people riding broomsticks, and one of them crashed into the balcony. Her name was Maud Spellbody. She was just about to head off to the castle, and I learnt the castle was called Cackles Academy for Witches."

"Cackles? So that's who you were referring too earlier when you said Cackle?" Mirabelle said.

Mildred nodded. "You see…. I got Maud to take me to the school. At the time, Cackles was preparing for a new year and the first year students had to go through an entrance exam. With Maud's help, I was able to talk my way in…. and I failed. I took another student's ingredients and she turned into something different, and I owned up when she revealed I was from a non-magical family. But Ada has a sister, a twisted woman called Agatha, who wants the school for herself."

Mirabelle nodded, knowing what she was talking about.

"Well, Agatha placed a spell into the celebratory meal for those who succeeded in the exams. I tried to warn the staff, but I was sent out. Again. But I got back inside. Ada and Agatha fought in a duel, and when Agatha won she practically had the school in her hands."

Mirabelle knew what she was talking about, so she didn't need to ask for any confirmation.

"But one of the teachers said to me that since everyone was bound by the code they couldn't stop her, but since I was not from the magical world I was exempt. Agatha had poured an obedience potion into the meal, so I had a cat knock the soup all over Agatha. When I found that out I simply had Agatha turn the school back to Ada, and her powers were removed."

Mirabelle was silent as she processed what Mildred was saying. Finally, the microwave pinged to show it was finished, and Mildred took the two mugs full of milk out of the strange contraption, and she spooned in some of the cocoa powder and stirred them both before she handed one of the mugs over to Mirabelle.

The older witch looked at the strangely coloured liquid dubiously but she drank it experimentally. Her expression brightened and she drank another sip.

"Careful, drink that slowly," Mildred said, drinking from her own mug.

"Sorry, I can't help it. Anyway, go on."

Mildred paused and she led the way out of the kitchen. "Miss Cackle decided to offer me a trial," she explained, "in thanks for helping save the school."

Mirabelle was surprised to hear that, a trial? It sounded a little bit….. patronising, almost as if the teachers had decided to take the girl in and then kick her out without giving Mildred a chance. She hoped that it hadn't happened.

But Mildred went on. "It didn't go well; not only were Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom, the potions mistress at Cackles Academy, patronising to my mother. When I got to the school, they were worse. Hardbroom would constantly scold me even if I didn't do anything wrong, and Miss Cackle did the same thing. For instance, when I was trying to pass the broomstick flying test, they gave me a short span of time to learn how to fly the stupid thing."

"What?" Mirabelle whispered in disbelief, though her voice made it clear to Mildred she didn't need the girl to repeat what she'd just said. "But broomstick flying takes years to master."

"I know," Mildred replied, though her tone made it just as clear she didn't really care how long it took to master broomstick flying. "But they still did it."

* * *

Mildred looked away. "I had 'befriended' Maud, and later on another girl called Enid Nightshade. At first, they made my life bearable while I struggled with the lessons and with Hardbroom's scorn. But things turned from bad to worst when a group of VIPs came to the school. Miss Cackle decided to give me a chance to prove I can fly after I'd practiced on my broomstick. For a time, it worked out okay, and then I began to lose control of the broom and I crashed into the VIPs."

Mirabelle closed her eyes as the horror story began to unfold, but Mildred was not finished.

"As soon as it was over, I was brought up to the front of the Great Hall, in front of the whole school. I was expelled. And then Miss Cackle and everybody else spent a whole night screaming horrible things to me. Even Maud and Enid. They both said they'd been shamed by what had happened, and they said some terrible things to me. I won't repeat them - I had enough bad dreams to fill a book, and that's where their diatribes belong. During my last night, where other students would scream horrible things at me, I cried myself to sleep. The next day I left the school, deciding that learning magic was not worth it. I had had enough. Miss Hardbroom snatched my broomstick out of my hand with a sneer saying she felt I'd crashed enough, but the thing was I only took the broomstick because I didn't want to walk home in the rain."

The horror story was getting worse for Mirabelle to hear, but seeing Mildred's currently expressionless face and listening to the way she was speaking froze her.

"Miss Bat, the chanting teacher offered to cast a spell when I made it clear I wanted to go home on my own to keep me warm, but by then I was tired of magic. When I got home after spending hours and hours walking home because I didn't want to be transported home and give myself the time I needed to think and besides I didn't want to be transported anywhere - I hated being moved from one space to another without any control, so I was soaking wet and I was crying my eyes out. My mum met me, and we both realised I would be better off in the normal world, but I'd already worked that out."

Mildred took another sip of her drink. "Looking back, I had already worked out I didn't have a place at Cackles long before that moment. It took some time, but I managed to catch up with my peers at normal school. But back at Cackles…..," Mildred sighed and took another sip, "everyone soon realised a girl had cast a spell on my broomstick, a troubled girl called Ethel Hallow."

"Hallow?"

Mildred made a face. "You know them?"

"I've had dealings with them," Mirabelle said shortly, making a face before she pulled herself together. "What happened next?"

"Ethel was close to revealing what she'd done to broadcast her cleverness, but she knew it was a terrible idea. But her lackey, Drusilla Paddock was guilty over what she'd done, which is a first since she's such a toady, so she blew the whistle and everyone soon knew. They tried to get in touch with me, my so-called friends. Miss Cackle or Miss Hardbroom, or someone else had destroyed the cards to mirror me when they kicked me out, so they had to use letters. I didn't bother to reply to them but I read them. But reading what they were saying made me sick. I was furious they were hoping to ask for forgiveness after what they'd done, but I stopped caring. I was trying to get my life back on track."

Mildred took another gulp of her hot chocolate, but she ignored the fact it was cooling down so quickly it was almost lukewarm. "A few weeks after I'd been expelled from Cackles, I came home and I found my mother locked in an argument with Cackle and Hardbroom. They both wanted her to know I had been accepted back into the Academy. When I got in, I was angry they had both come back into my life like nothing had happened, but what really made me frustrated was how they expected me to just bow my head meekly and put my own chains back on and go back to Cackles."

Mirabelle stiffened at Mildred's words. It sounded as though the girl had seen magic and it's education as oppression or enslavement.

Ignorant of her ancestor's thoughts, Mildred went on, "But I refused, I made it clear to them I just wanted to continue my life without potions, spells or those stupid brooms. My mother tried to offer her own opinion, but Miss Cackle told her that it didn't concern her. I lashed out at them, tired when they tried, again, to treat my mother like garbage again when I was right there. It wasn't an isolated thing either; ever since I'd begun at the school, I learnt from my mother who works late sometimes to make ends meet Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom sometimes dragged her out without giving a thought to what she was doing at the time, and they would insult both of us without thinking my mother would not tell me. If they honestly thought I'd let them get away with it, then they're even more stupid than I thought."

Mildred sighed and walked closer to the living room window where the castle in question was sitting on a hill, almost tauntingly as though telling Mildred that she could have been there, but had given up. "I told them I wasn't interested, but for some bizarre reason I've never cared enough to work out, Miss Hardbroom followed me into my bedroom to talk to me. At least that was what she'd said, but I was too furious to think straight; I was just so tired and fed up they'd taken my hopes and thrown them out of the window shamelessly, but I was frustrated with all their letters, their talks about things being different. I'm not stupid, I knew I'd still struggle and I was so tired of trying. I didn't want to live like that anymore, so I refused. Hardbroom patronised me by saying other people would be grateful at being educated, but I focused on one thing. My mother. I had seen magic be used to hurt people, so I was worried if one of them had decided to kidnap me. That shook her. But she refused to leave until I shouted at her to get out, and when I left Miss Cackle was gone as well."

Mildred sat down on the sofa. "I received a few letters after that, one of them was from Maud. She basically repeated she was sorry, but she would respect my wishes to leave me alone and never contact me again. Enid sent me a similar letter, and I haven't seen anyone from Cackles since."

Mirabelle watched as Mildred slowly took another gulp from her mug, but the teenager's posture froze as her eyes narrowed and her expression became more thoughtful. "And you've been in the non-magical world since?"

"Yes," Mildred's voice was a whisper. "The trial was never meant to work. Sooner or later, something could have happened, and I'd end up in the non-magical world anyway. Win-win, in my mind. At least here I've got a better chance of learning how to pass my grades."

* * *

What did you think?


	3. Chapter 3

Happy Christmas!

I hope you're enjoying Christmas Day and are set to enjoy a new year.

Please tell me what you think.

* * *

The Revelations of the EXPELLED.

Mirabelle was feeling ill.

Listening to how her many time great-granddaughter had been treated by her fellow witches sickened her. She knew only too well how traditionally minded witches and wizards were, she herself was a proud upholder and supporter of many of those same traditions, so truthfully she didn't have any right to be angry on Mildred's behalf.

She was just…numb about the future of her family. While it sounded like her family had managed to survive to this century, something she was eternally thankful for, she was upset about what had happened to Mildred even if the girl seemed to be alright now.

Mirabelle took a good long look at the girl. Mildred seemed healthy enough in her eyes, but Mirabelle hated the fact she had essentially abandoned something that was her heritage, though it was not her choice. Mirabelle was torn with indecision. She had come into the future to discover what had happened to her family, to see if they had survived and if they were alright. She was delighted they had survived for so long without magic, though she wasn't sure how they'd managed it.

Mirabelle was delighted that in the future, magic would return to her family, but what distressed Mirabelle the most was how her many time great-granddaughter had been expelled from a school which would have allowed future generations to re-discover their magical roots, but now that opportunity was gone.

Or was it?

It wasn't unusual for witches and wizards (at least in her century, she wasn't sure if it was still possible for it to be allowed in this new century since she wasn't sure if her edition of the code was valid) to be educated without the need for schools. Did Mildred still want to be a witch? Did she still want to discover something new about herself, or did she simply no longer care and was willing to let those opportunities pass her by?

But what angered her the most was how the Witching world had not changed. So many prejudices and her family was a victim of it. Mildred was a victim of those prejudices.

"Mildred, are you….. are you happy with your situation?" Mirabelle asked hesitantly.

Mildred frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I meant….. don't you want to learn about magic, about your heritage?" Mirabelle clarified. She genuinely hoped Mildred did not take this question the wrong way.

The teenager sighed. "I admit there are times I wish I still had the chance to learn magic," Mildred admitted, "but I have to be realistic. It's not my world. I was never welcomed. The teachers and the students drove me mad. Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were awful. Miss Cackle was a hypocrite to me; she smiled to my face whenever she saw me, and yet whenever my back was turned she and Hardbroom dragged my mother into the school, not caring she might be in the middle of helping people. My mother works as a nurse alongside doctors at the local hospital, and some of the injuries are severe. They took my mother into the school to discuss my problems, and they didn't care they were transporting her out of work where anyone can see it.

"And the most insulting part of it was Miss Cackle _never_ caught on, or seemed to catch on, that I knew about it. What, did she really think my mother and I never talked when we had the opportunity? And because Hardbroom vanished my mobile phone - it allows us to speak to each other over long distances - I couldn't speak to her on my terms. I had to adhere to their rules of speaking to mum from the mirror room. But mum told me a lot. She told me how many times she'd been dragged into the school, insulted and treated like dirt by those two. They didn't care one bit what my mother did for a living, seeing it as though it were beneath their notice as if helping people was a bad thing," Mildred spat, her eyes furious.

Mirabelle looked down at her toes, wishing she hadn't brought the matter up now. But Mildred just kept going, clearly, she had been holding this back for a long time, and she'd never had the opportunity to let it all out like this.

"My mother didn't have many good things to say about my former teachers, until every day I found myself becoming indifferent towards them, and then I was expelled," Mildred shook her head, "At first I was reluctant to just return to the non-magical world and go to an ordinary school like my mum wanted though I didn't have much choice. But then…. ah," she smiled scornfully, "broomsticks, pointed hats, cauldrons. They probably did my favour. I only came to that conclusion when they came here to the flat, insulted my mother, and offered me a chance to come back weeks after the event in question. They never tried to apologise then or beforehand. Afterward's I decided I never wanted to see them ever again, and after that, I decided I wanted nothing to do with the witching world again. Do I want to know more about my family history? Yes, I do. Do I want to go back to the witching world? Not a chance. I'm happy and I don't want anyone meddling in that," she finished, sending Mirabelle a meaningful look.

The older witch flinched, wondering when Mildred had gotten the idea she had been thinking of changing history herself so then these events would never have happened. When she looked at the young girl, Mirabelle's heart sank into her stomach with dread. Mildred was looking at like all of her worst suspicions had just come true.

"Mildred, I was only considering it because I didn't want you or your mother to suffer anymore," Mirabelle said, hoping to explain what had entered her mind. "I wasn't going to actually do it."

Mildred raised an eyebrow. Clearly, the girl didn't believe her. Mirabelle sighed mentally, wondering why the youth were so untrusting, though she wondered if time had only made it worse.

"I mean it," Mirabelle said, but Mildreds' expression had not changed. Not one little bit. Finally, Mirabelle placed her right hand to her chest and spoke, "I, Mirabelle Hubble, do hereby solemnly swear on my magic that I shall not break my word to Mildred Hubble I shall interfere in her life, this I swear on the witches' code. This is my magical oath."

Mildred couldn't believe it. Shortly after her expulsion from Cackles, she had cleared her stuff out of all the magical things. The broomstick wasn't a problem because HB had taken it off of her, but the uniform was later burnt though she secretly took the badges from the hat and the gymslip and placed them into a box so she could gaze at them from time to time if she wanted to.

She got rid of the spell book and the Witches' codebooks since she would no longer need them, but she had taken the time to read the book before she burnt it along with her uniform. It was kind of ironic she was reading the code after being expelled from Cackles, but truthfully she decided to get it out of the way.

She had learnt a great deal about the witching world, and she discovered how much she disliked it from reading some of the rules.

It was no wonder Ethel was such a finite bitch with how she behaved. She was not going to receive anything from her family, and she would always be overlooked whereas her sister Esmerelda would receive everything. Mildred didn't care. It wasn't her problem, and besides after what Ethel had done she didn't know if she shouldn't thank the girl or punch her lights out.

Personally, she would love to see Ethels' face if the blonde bitch ever found out she was actually happy. It would be the perfect revenge to make Ethel see that being expelled was one of the best things to ever happen to her, though knowing Ethel the blonde might try to do something really extreme.

But when she had read the Witches' Code, Mildred had learnt about magical oaths based on the code. While it was possible to bend the rules without consequence, all witches and wizards when they were young, around the time they were about to leave for school, signed a document provided by an official which was linked them magically to the code itself so then if they broke it severely the Magic Council would learn of it and they'd deal with them accordingly. There was a huge section about it in the codebook.

Mirabelle was telling the truth, but Mildred was not sure if she could even trust the woman, not after seeing for herself the woman had considered meddling with history to change it to her own family would not lose their magic. "I'm sorry, my child," Mirabelle wrung her hands guiltily, "I didn't want you to suffer anymore."

Mildred did what she always did whenever her mother was upset. She wrapped an arm around her distant ancestor and held her close. "I know you did," she said honestly, "but truthfully I am happy. My mother and aunt and grandmother are happy. We've been happy for years, and we'd have been happy with or without magic in our lives."

She was telling the truth. Aside from one or two issues here and there during the course of their lives which was normal for any family in the non-magical world - taxes, money, food, things like that, the Hubble family had always been okay.

"It was only a thought," Mirabelle tried to say, but both of them knew it was more than that. Mildred, however, had watched Doctor Who and a few other dramas involving the occasional act of time travel.

"Yeah," she said, convinced she had her case. "Look," she took a deep breath so she could gather the right wording for her upcoming argument. "If you change the past, there's no telling what might happen. I might not exist. My mother might not exist. Some other Hubbles may take our place, or I could be alive in a new reality, but everything that makes me who I am might be gone. I love art, and if I have to choose between being a witch and being an artist, I would go for art every time. It's what I can do. I don't want to lose that part about myself."

Mirabelle was wilting with every word. She was feeling ashamed of herself for even contemplating changing her family's future, not for their benefit but for hers. That was the worst part of the whole thing. She looked down and eventually, she nodded. "You're right," she admitted sadly, disgusted with herself for being so concerned about the magic she had forgotten the most important factor, her family. They survived. They were alive in this century, and although she was not happy one little bit with what had happened with Mildred, she was delighted they were healthy.

"You're right," she repeated, gazing at her descendent with a solemn look. "I'm sorry. I was not thinking at all about you or the family, or what they might be doing with their lives. I was more interested in what I considered normal."

Mildred studied the woman. Mirabelle seemed to be sincere, and as she looked into the woman's' eyes, she could see it laid out nicely for her. The older Hubble was telling the truth. Then again it could have been because of that oath was sworn on the code which may have been what made her believe it.

"What will you do now?" she asked, changing the subject.

Mirabelle sighed. "I think I'm ready," the witch said sadly. "I'm going to go back in time and give my magic to the stone."

Mildred watched the older woman. She seemed like she was still trying to convince herself, but she was more visibly willing to do it now she had been convinced her descendants were happy despite being deprived of their magical heritage for centuries. "I'm sorry," she offered, seeing the witch was clearly upset with the whole thing.

Mirabelle shook her head quickly, "No, you've got nothing to be sorry about. I'm just sorry my coven had to use the Founding Stone in the first place in order to make the coven magically powerful. I'm sorry you had to suffer as you have."

"I may have suffered," Mildred said, "but I have gained a lot more. I didn't need magic for that."

That part of the reply hurt and yet elated Mirabelle more than anything else. She stood up and took out the bottle. "What's that?" Mildred asked. "Is that how you travelled into the future?"

"Yes. I just have to uncork it and say an incantation, and I'll be sent back," Mirabelle replied, knowing it wasn't as simple as that, "though you're going to have to stand back."

Mildred did as she was told, giving the older witch enough space to do just that, while all the time wondering just how long it would be before her mum came back. Her mum had been working hard recently, so her shifts were hard enough to keep track.

Mirabelle, meanwhile, was about to uncork the bottle to leave, but she stopped and she reached into an inner pocket of her robes and drew out a heavy volume which was spelled to be weightless. She handed the leather-bound volume to the teenager. Mildred examined it closely. "What's this?" she asked.

Although she was instinctively upset her descendent didn't recognise the book, Mirabelle had to suppress her outrage since it made sense Mildred didn't recognise the book and how special it was. "This is the Hubble family grimoire. Every magical family has one," Mirabelle explained, "I know you want nothing to do with magic or the magical world, Mildred, but don't push your heritage away just because of what's happened. Please, keep it."

Mildred quirked a brow, surprised Mirabelle was doing this, and she looked deeply at the woman to see if she was manipulating her in some manner to return to the witching world. She saw no sign of manipulation, just honesty that made her nearly cry. Had she become so….suspicious about the magical world and its people that she no longer felt she could give them the benefit of the doubt? Well, she supposed it was their own fault; after the way she'd been treated before, during, and after her expulsion, no-one could blame her. But she had to admit, she was nonetheless curious about what was in the book.

Before she realised she was doing it, Mildred had flung herself at Mirabelle. "Thank you," she whispered at the woman.

Mirabelle wrapped her arms gratefully around Mildred. For a moment that was timeless, Mirabelle and Mildred, held each other before Mildred broke the hug and let go and stepped away from the older witch with a smile. Mirabelle smiled back and after a long moment, but then there was a sound from the front door.

"Hi, Mildred," Julie greeted as she stumbled into the flat, shrugging off her jacket. "Sorry it took me forever to get back, but work was murder." She was moving too quickly and speaking too rapidly to notice the visitor, but when she did she stiffened noticeably. "Who's this?" Julie asked, hackles rising at the sight of the woman who was clearly a witch, but then her voice became more puzzled. "Why do you look like me?"

Mirabelle was too choked up to reply.

"Mum, this Mirabelle Hubble. She's our ancestor," Mildred explained.

Julie looked at her daughter, wondering if she'd finally lost it. "Our what?" she demanded.

"I'm your ancestor," Mirabelle repeated, looking solemnly at her great-granddaughter. "And yes, I am a witch, but because of my actions magic in our family was given away in order to save a magical object of great power, resulting in many generations of our family losing our powers."

"I…see," Julie said slowly, clearly not understanding. "This is going to be good," she said, quickly recovering.

Mirabelle sighed. It took Julie an hour to understand from Mirabelles' talk about the family history, the ups and lows, the founding of the coven and the reasons why the Magic Council had given them a Founding Stone in order to grow the coven and make it big. She also described what happened to the Stone, and what had made her travel into the future to see for herself what had happened with the family, and she also told Julie she had been horrified by what she'd learnt had happened to Mildred at Cackles.

The clear anger and shame of what her fellow magicians had done to Mildred did more to win brownie-points with Julie than anything else. During the whole tale, Julie had been disbelieving that after all this time a witch was in their lives, and yet as Mirabelle went on she realised the witch genuinely was a member of their family, albeit a distant one.

When the tale was over, Mirabelle looked between her great-granddaughters with a smile. "I'd better be going," she said, gazing at them with a kind manner that, visually, reminded both Mildred and Julie of Ada Cackle, yet Mirabelle's smile reminded them both of Granny Hubble. "I think I'm ready."

Mirabelle turned to Mildred with a gentle smile, "Good luck."

Turning to Julie, Mirabelles' smile became more wistful. "I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other well enough," she said regretfully, "but I am delighted our family is full of good people."

Julie smiled at the compliment. The smile was still on her face when Mirabelle uncorked the bottle containing the fragment of the Mists of Time, and she spoke the incantation that would take her back into the past. When the witch had left, Julie looked at her daughter.

"What did you think?" Julie asked Mildred.

"Of what?"

"Of Mirabelle. What did you think of her?"

Mildred looked down at the grimoire, touched that her ancestor had given her the book. With it she hoped to finally understand her family and its history. "I thought she was nice," Mildred confessed, "in fact, she was more honest than any witch I've met in the past. I know why she gave me this," she said, holding up the book.

Julie frowned at it. "What is it?"

"It's like an encyclopaedia of our family, its history, and of magic in general. The only thing is…I don't think magic is ready to come back into our family. Maybe in another few generations, it will be," Mildred said thoughtfully before she looked into her mothers' eyes. "I also felt sorry for her, for having to shoulder that burden. I hope in the past she still lives to a great age and even if she loses her powers and has to see her children and grandchildren lose their powers, she's happy in the end."

Julie hoped so as well.

* * *

Well, thats it for this one.

Merry Christmas. Please tell me what you think, and I wish you well.


End file.
